


The Right Thing

by Daughter_of_the_Mountains



Series: Nadadel [7]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Balin And Dwalin Are Great Cousins, Crying, Dwalin Is A Softie, Even If He Doesn't Show It Very Often, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4085155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daughter_of_the_Mountains/pseuds/Daughter_of_the_Mountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Óin gets support he didn't ask for, but finds that having close kin to support himself and his nadadith is better than going it alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Thing

It's been two unbearable hours and Glóin still won't talk to him.  
  
"Nadadith, will you please open your door?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Brother, _please?!"_  
  
"Go away!"  
  
Óin sighs heavily and slides down the wall. He crouches down and cradles his head in his hands. Downstairs, he hears the door open and shut.   
  
Excellent. His cousins could not have chosen a worse time to visit. He gets up and knocks Glóin's door. "Nadad, our cousins have come. Will you say hello?"  
  
 _"Bugger off!!"_    
  
He's certain they've heard (Mahal knows he has) and he glares at the unresponsive door. He's got half a mind to break it down and drag his brother out by the ear, but he also fears alienating him any further. He rubs his forehead wearily.   
A heavy hand lands on his shoulder and he jumps, half-expecting their father to be beside him. Instead of soft blue eyes, he sees gentle brown ones and he is gently pushed to the stairs.   
  
"Go on, Balin's waiting for you."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Now, Óin."  
  
Giving the door a last unhappy look, he heads down the stairs, leaving his brother still shut up inside his room and his elder cousin outside it. 

* * *

  
  
_Thud! Thud!_  
  
"Go away!" Glóin answers.   
  
"It's me."  
  
'What's Dwalin doing back here?' Glóin wonders. He sits up, still holding onto his mother's pillow. It's a soft yellow-gold colour and she was sewing a pattern on it with a spool of dark blue thread before her illness dominated her. She was making it as his name-day gift and it still smells of her - of cooking and lavender.   
  
He doesn't hold onto it very often, he isn't a _child_ , but when he gets scared or sad it is nice to hold.   
  
"Why are _you_ here?"  
  
"Because we could hear Óin pleading with you down the bloody street. Let me in, iraknadad."  
  
He reluctantly opens the door and is quickly drawn into a bear hug. Dwalin's big hand ruffles his hair. It's... It's so much like his father. He blinks, trying to fight the burning in his eyes. He will not cry.   
  
"What's going on, laddie?"  
  
Oh no. For the first time since the funeral, tears begin gliding down his face.   
  
"Buggering hell!" Dwalin kneels before him, quickly hugging him close. "Come now, don't take on so... Tell me, little cousin, what's _wrong?"_

* * *

  
  
"What makes you think something is wrong?"  
  
"Óin, we could hear your pleas and his, too."  
  
Óin sighs. "He doesn't want me to go back to work."  
  
"Hmm. Can you think why?"  
  
Balin's got that look on his face. The _'I-Know-Something-You-Should-Know-Too'_ look. Óin tries to think.   
  
"Well... I suppose...He'd get bored?"  
  
"Well, perhaps, but you and I both know that he has ways of keeping himself occupied. Reading, puzzles and so forth."  
  
"Um... Oh, I don't know! Loneliness?"  
  
Balin nods. "I'd say so. He's never liked being alone. It took long enough to get him to _sleep_ alone, from what Aunty Sannith told me."  
  
Óin shifts around. "He hasn't been sleeping alone recently, to be honest. He's scared to."  
  
"I don't blame him. Remember, he woke up to find..." Balin trails off. Óin recalls the look of horror that had dominated his cousins face when he'd discovered that Glóin had awoken to find their father dead. "It's a terrible thing to find your father dead. It must be even worse to know that he passed away while you were sleeping next to him. Thing is, I don't think that this is a very happy place for him. I've no doubt that he's happy with you, but it might be that he fears staying alone in the very building that your father passed away in. When you're home with him, he's protected."  
  
"He's afraid."  
  
"Possibly." Balin reaches for his hand. "What about you?"  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"Are you..alright?"

* * *

  
  
"I don't want him to go to work!"  
  
He's finally managed to stop crying and Dwalin wasted no time in sitting him on his bed. Now, he's holding onto his cousin's mighty paw with one hand and holding around his waist with his free arm.  
  
Dwalin looks confused. "Why not? You'll have free reign of the house."  
  
"I don't want to be alone in the house!"  
  
Dwalin stills. He looks down at him, his deep brown eyes showing comprehension. "He's haunting you, isn't he?"  
  
"The room... It's opposite mine and... When my brother's with me I'm _safe_ , but if I'm alone, all I can think of is him. He was so _cold_ and I slept while he died.."  
  
Dwalin pulls him closer. "It wasn't your doing. It would have been peaceful for him. He died with you beside him, yes, but it means that he had the thought of the two people he loved most in this world with him. He was _happy_."  
  
"He was?" He so _longs_ for this to be true.   
  
Dwalin nods. There is no hint of a lie in the warm depths of his dark eyes. "You are the sons he never thought he'd have. He loved you both so dearly and his pride for you was without measure. Knowing that he had at least one of you nearby would have brought him so much comfort and joy in those last moments."  
  
His eyes are filling up again, but he isn't sad or scared now. Adad loved him. That's what matters.  
  
"Your brother cherishes you, you know. Ever since you were born, he's adored you. He's not trying to make you unhappy by going back to work."  
  
Glóin sniffles. "I know."  
  
"If you like, you're welcome to stay with Balin and me for the day. Or you can come to the Training Hall or go to that boring library with your greybeard of a cousin."  
  
Glóin smiles softly. Dwalin does too.  
  
"Your father was right proud when your brother said he wanted to become a healer. A healer saved your amad's life the very day she came into Erebor."  
  
"Óin should go back to work."  
  
Dwalin nods in agreement. "I reckon you might just have a point."  
  


* * *

  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
 _"Óin."_  
  
"Well, I'm not drinking every night to cope."  
  
Balin chuckles. "Cousin, that's not quite what I meant!"  
  
"Is it wrong to wish that... That there was someone else to help?"  
  
"Not at all. I daresay Uncle Gróin thought much the same with us, though he never admitted it, and we never asked." Balin says.   
  
"Oh, he hated it." Óin tells him solemnly. "He cried himself to sleep every night, he did.."  
  
Balin smiles warmly. "Aye, I'm sure he did."  
  
Óin shakes his head. "Nah, he loved you and Dwalin. You were his brother's sons. Despite his _numerous_ horror tales, he adored your father."  
  
"And Glóin adores you."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes, nadad!"  
  


* * *

  
  
Óin looks startled. But he also looks relieved and he stands up, stepping toward him, arms outstretched hopefully. He gladly accepts his brother's embrace and is bombarded with Óin's scent of wool, ink , paper and herbs.   
  
His brother. His nadadel.   
  
"I'm sorry!"  
  
They've both said this at the same time. Twin pairs of black eyes blink at each other.   
  
"Nadadith..?"  
  
"I'm sorry I didn't want you to go to work, I know it's important and if you must go, you should go."  
  
Óin is quiet for a moment, hugging him close. Then he speaks. "I'm sorry too. The decision to return would affect you hugely. We've spent whole days together and... You do need me right now and I should have thought about it more..."   
  
He sounds torn. Glóin looks up at him. "I don't mind. I just..."  
  
"You don't want to be alone in the house." Óin kisses the top of his head. "That's fair enough." His brother falls silent, thinking again. "Nadad," he says, "I don't think I ever brought you to the place I work in."  
  
"Is it where Mammy was?"  
  
"No. I help weigh and prepare herbs and simple medicines and teas."  
  
"That sounds boring."  
  
Óin huffs a laugh. "Would you allow me a chance to prove this belief wrong?"  
  
It'll make Óin happy. It'll keep Adad proud. It's the right thing.   
  
"That'd be alright."  
  
Óin smiles. The worry, sadness and fear seeps out of him. "Thank you. But, if your belief still holds, would you like to spend some time with our cousins?"  
  
Óin must have been talking with Balin about this. But, they're his kin and they're not too bad, and Glóin smiles. "That'd be good, I suppose."  
  
"You _'suppose'_ , do you?" Dwalin asks jokingly. He ruffles his hair and goes to sit by his brother.   
  
Óin looks like he feels better. He is an expert at reading his expressions, his most well-hidden emotions, so Glóin decides that he probably looks like he feels better too.  
  
He does, in a way, he realises as his brother gently rubs his back, rubbing his cheek against his mane of red. For, his brother will be happier, going back to work and he does want him to be happy. Sure, it will feel strange to not have him during the day as much, but they will still see each other everyday, surely? And Óin loves him. And it will be nice to get out of the house.   
  
Maybe, one day, the strange feeling of emptiness inside it will fade.   
  
But, until then, there is a road of recovery to take.  
  
And it is one that he and his family will help each other on.


End file.
